


one two three

by swancharmings



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/pseuds/swancharmings
Summary: A game of numbers. (Darvey, set in season 9)
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	one two three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andsocanshe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsocanshe/gifts).



> Inspired by an episode of “The Unusuals,” which I have never seen but Alyssa (donnaandharvey) told me about it and I have not stopped screaming. Please enjoy this little ficlet, comments and critiques always welcome!

“One,” Donna whispers in his ear while he’s shaving, and he nearly nicks himself at the feeling of her sweet breath on his face and her nose brushing his jaw.

He shrugs on his suit jacket and she passes him a cup of coffee with a smirk, which only grows as he announces, “Three.”

He turns and she watches him walk back towards the bedroom. “Six,” she calls out, and he feels his dick twitch.

“Eight,” he says as he guides her out the door, hand not so much on her back as it is on her ass.

Donna grinds against his palm. “Nine.”

———

By the time they get to the firm, the count has skyrocketed.

“Forty-seven,” he tosses over his shoulder as she enters her office. She looks at him pointedly and raises her eyebrows.

“Ten more? Really?”

Harvey shrugs. “I’m creative.”

Donna rolls her eyes and bends down to drop her purse on the floor.

“Forty-eight,” he calls and she blushes.

She looks up as Harvey leaves and locks eyes with Alex, who is watching the exchange with an expression that can only be defined as queasy.

She clears her throat and pretends to be busy with the pile of papers in her inbox.

———

It’s not even noon when she picks up the phone and taps the button for Harvey’s office.

“Sixty-nine,” she purrs into the line, biting her lip and crossing her legs while he groans into her ear.

He’s barely hung up the phone when Samantha barges into his office.

“Harvey, where do we stand on Brick Street?”

He coughs, glances up in confusion. He feels dizzy. “What?”

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Donna, ah — needed to give me some more information.”

Samantha purses her lips. “On?”

Harvey swallows. “Statistics. Very...vital statistics.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” She turns away with a smirk. “Come and find me when you’re presentable.”

Harvey doesn’t even have a retort.

———

He corners Donna in the file room, presses her up against the copier.

“Eighty-one,” he growls, lips dangerously close to her neck.

“Hmmm,” she chuckles, looks up at him through her lashes. “One. Hundred.”

He shakes his head. “No way.”

“No? Want me to show you?”

“Oh,” he murmurs, holding her waist reverently. “You will.”

She returns to her desk ten minutes later to find a sticky note tacked to her laptop.

_One hundred five._

———

He’s in the middle of a meeting with Faye when he catches her eye outside the glass.

“One-twenty-two,” Donna mouths with a quirk of her brow.

If he didn’t before, he has no desire to pay attention after that.

She’s grinning at him, and he flashes her three fingers in rapid succession: _one-two-three._

———

“One-eighty-nine,” Harvey drawls from her doorway as she buttons her coat.

She tugs on his tie, fingertips lingering on his collarbone. “One-ninety.”

They ride the elevator down, the floors decreasing as their own numbers go up.

If Ray is perturbed by their fondling in the back seat, he doesn’t comment.

“Two-oh-two,” Donna says sweetly as Harvey fumbles for the key.

“Two-oh-three.”

The door swings open.

“Two-oh-four.”

Donna toes off her heels.

“Two-oh-five.”

Harvey’s own shoes and suit jacket are rapidly discarded on the floor.

“Two-oh-six.” Donna picks up the rumpled fabric and hangs it alongside her coat. Harvey grabs her hand, leads her to his bedroom that doesn’t feel so much like _his_ as it does _theirs_ these days.

“Two-oh-seven.”

“Two-oh-eight.”

“Two-oh-nine.”

“Two —“ Donna doesn’t get to finish. Harvey swallows the rest of the numbers in a deep kiss, mouths melting together, and he pulls her as close as humanly possible.

Then it’s shirts and pants and underwear traded in favor of bare skin and silk sheets and lips and teeth and tongues.

Donna straddles his waist, grinding against his thigh and leaving a trail of slippery wetness.

“All day,” she whispers, nipping at his jaw.

He flips them over and runs his hard length through her folds, and he rubs the tip and her clit all at once.

“All day,” he repeats, voice thick.

“Then what are you waiting for,” she asks, breathless and giddy, and the smile on her face widens and her eyes flutter closed as he pushes inside her.

After, they lay panting, sharing soft nuzzles and kisses.

“Two,” he mumbles against her lips, and they laugh together in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> The episode is called “Boorland Day,” and the two main characters are just going about their lives while throwing seemingly random numbers at each other — unbeknownst to everyone else, it’s how many times they have thought about having sex during the day. And then they do it. And so, this just wrote itself. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
